Twenty Years
by Robin Purdy
Summary: Castiel mourns over Dean's grave. Warning: Major Character Death and Angst.


Twenty Years

The sky was dark. It was a great, empty expanse spread over the earth, vacuumed of light and void of colour. It was twelve minutes before dawn. Twelve minutes before the heavens would open and shine all of its love and glory onto the earth. Twelve minutes before Castiel's favourite time of day.

He stood on a hill that looked down upon a cemetery. It was lonely there, with only the gravestones and morning dew keeping him company. But Castiel had grown accustomed to loneliness. He had spent so much time being unaccompanied by a living being that it would have been hard to _not_ get used to it.

Twenty years.

It was that long ago when he got the first taste of complete desolation. It was when he permanently ripped away his connection to his brothers. It was when Dean had…

Six minutes until dawn. Castiel descended down the hill, passing by gravestones but not bothering to look at the names eternally engraved in them. He was only visiting one specific grave that day, and he already had its location memorized.

He finally arrived at the gravesite in question. He bowed his head. It still hurt to see it, even after all this time. The twenty years had actually made the sight all the more painful.

He pulled a single flower from the inside folds of his trench coat. It was amazing that he still had that same article of clothing, the one thing that stayed the same over the years. People, monsters, everything had come and gone, except for that coat.

Castiel placed the flower before the headstone. "Hello, Dean."

He knew that it was ridiculous to speak to a dead person. It was just as productive as believing and praying to an absent father. But he still did them both. He had a tiny seed of hope glowing inside him that maybe, just maybe, dead people could hear your words. That your prayers would be answered. That someone was listening. That they knew how much you loved them.

"I've missed you. It's been a long time." The angel swiped at a tear before it could make itself known. He would not cry. He was strong enough to do that. "I, uh, brought you a flower. I have heard that it is custom for humans to place that specific type of vegetation on the grave of a loved one. Although, knowing how you like tradition, you probably wouldn't appreciate it much." Castiel choked back a laugh as he remembered Dean's rebellious ways.

One more minute till dawn.

"It's hard going on without you. You'd think that after twenty years I'd get used to you not being here with me. But I am reminded of you every moment of every day, and I…"

Castiel's throat constricted and he found it hard to breathe. The words seemed to not want to be freed, and they were doing everything in their power to stay inside of Castiel. But he had to say them. He had to tell Dean, even if the man in question was dead and could not hear Castiel if he shouted.

"…I need you."

Whoever said that angels could not feel emotions could never have been more wrong. Castiel could feel his eyes prickling with warm tears, hear his heart beating like war drums, taste the remorse and sorrow on his words. He was greiving. He could definitely feel it inside him and tell those were the symptoms.

Castiel got down on his knees and prayed uselessly. "Bring him back to me. I cannot live an eternity without him. It has been too long already."

Castiel cried and prayed into the cold, wet grass as the sun stretched its golden fingers over the angel's shaking frame.

It was some time before Castiel recovered. He appreciated the warm glow of the dawn, and stared at the rising sun. He was glad he was an angel, so his eyes could withstand looking directly into the dazzling sun. He spoke as he watched it rise higher and higher, soaking in the moment and pretending Dean was sitting in the grass next to him.

"Remember when I used to watch you as you slept?"

"Yes," Dean answered.

Castiel smiled. "You used to hate it so much. But I continued to do it. I liked watching you. I liked knowing that you were safe. I liked seeing you calm, for once."

Dean laughed. "Glad to know you weren't infatuated with me."

Castiel couldn't tell if Dean was being sarcastic or not. He turned to looked at his friend, look into those vivid green eyes to see if he was joking.

Dean wasn't there. Neither were his eyes. Or smile. The conversation had just been part of Castiel's imagination. His stomach dropped like a ten-pound weight from a roof. Tears pricked his eyes once more.

He produced a second item from the depths of his trench coat and laid it out in front of him. An angel dagger.

"Please," he begged, his voice just above a whisper. "Give me a purpose to live. Because, if you don't…I'll kill myself." He waited for an answer from his father. Some kind of sign to keep living. He waited for a long time. He waited until he was sure his prayer had been ignored.

He fingered the angel dagger, feeling the coolness and weight of it. He memorized the weapon that would soon take his life.

It only took a moment to bring the dagger up to his chest. He was ready to die. He was ready to end the suffering.

He closed his eyes and pictured Dean, with his beautifully crooked smile and youthful green eyes. He could remember every detail of Dean's face, down to the smallest freckle. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw.

"I'm coming to you, Dean."

Castiel plunged the dagger into his own chest, darkness swallowing him whole.

He was finally at peace.

He was finally not alone.

He was finally with his friend.

* * *

**A few notes: I do not support suicide and I do not think it is the answer at all.**

**The reason Dean has a grave is this: He did have a Hunter's funeral, but Sam decided to bury the ashes at the Lawrence Kansas Cemetery.**

**I hope you liked it! Please review, it would be much appreciated :)**


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